


Where Does The Good Go

by Igodownwithmyshipz



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Nightwing (Comics), Young Justice - All Media Types
Genre: Batfamily Feels, Blood and Gore, Blood and Injury, Character Death, Gen, I'm Sorry, Major Character Injury, Officer Grayson, Or am I, Police Officer Dick Grayson, anguish, batfamily
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-27
Updated: 2018-06-30
Packaged: 2019-02-22 07:41:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13162392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Igodownwithmyshipz/pseuds/Igodownwithmyshipz
Summary: The words don't quite make sense to Bruce. Dick said he had resigned. After too many close calls in both uniforms, Dick had told Bruce he was going to resign from BPD. That he couldn’t do any good if he was killed.





	1. Where Does the Good Go

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Embleer_Frith0323](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Embleer_Frith0323/gifts).



 

 

Dick let out an exasperated groan as he watches the car in front of him run the red light. It’s the end of his shift and he just wants to get home to get a few hours of sleep before going out as Nightwing. But of course, duty calls he flips on his blue lights and activating the siren, its wails bouncing off the builds as he chases up to the red sedan that had run the red light.

For a moment it seems like the car wasn’t going to stop. Dick can feel the rush of adrenaline as he prepares for a pursuit, but then the driver pulls to the side of the road.

Dick grabs his radio, “Central, 8-23” he calls in.

“Go ahead 8-23”

“I’ll be 10-61 at 23rd St and Front St. New Jersey plate when ready”

“Go ahead” dispatch calls back to him.

“Adam, Henry, Lincoln, 5-3-7, should be showing on a red in color sedan” he calls out the plate and steps out of his patrol car.

He looks into the rear windshield, only two occupants in the front seat. The driver and a passenger.

He tries to get a good view of the driver through the side mirror as he approaches but the angle was off. Something in his gut turns but he ignores it.

He nears the rear of the car and gently touches the truck making sure it was fully closed. He still can't get good view of the driver’s hands. His gut turns a little more.

He stops just before the driver’s window.

“Sir the reason I stopped yo….”

There's a moment of incomprehension as the squealing of tires echoes in his head. He watches the red sedan speedway, as he lays sprawled on the road.

Pain causes a hand to dazedly drift up to his chest, watching with a sick fascination as the crisp white of his uniform shirt turns a dark red. Bits of glass sticking out from where they are embedded in him and his vest. He feels scratches on his face. Their pain dimming as a deep burning pain in his chest flairs blood oozed from a gaping hole.

He watches in a detached daze as his hand presses down on the center of the hole and his hand comes away warm and sticky. His hearing is drifting in and out.  He's fumbling for his radio, fingers tingling and numb, as he struggled to grasp it

“Central, 8-23” he tries to sound calm, as blood dribbles down his chin.

“8-23, everything 10-4?” there's an edge to the dispatcher’s voice. She's worried her words quick and clipped. He coughs and a red mist sprays from his mouth.

“Shots fired…Off…officer down. I need help. Officer down” The radio slips from his fingers. He needs to move, to get out of the road, but his body refusing to listen. He struggles to bring his hand back to the hole in his chest, he needs to try to stop the bleeding.

He presses down on the wound and agony rips through his body, blood leaking through his fingers, crawling its way up his throat, escaping through parted lips. Each breath a spray of pink mist.  He hears sirens in the distance, the sound distorted as his body fails him.

 His mind begins to drift as the world fades out around the edges. He watches birds soar up in the clouds. A robin flitting by its bright red chest contrasting with the blue sky. A weak tired smile pulls at his lips, he welcomes the oblivion as it swallows him whole.

xxx

Bruce is sitting in another meeting, it's the end of the quarter and department heads are busy trying to impress him with new developments and sale totals. Bruce’s mind is elsewhere. Alfred is preparing for a family night; all his boys would be under one roof for the first time in months.

It had taken years, but the family had managed to repair the riffs that had formed over the years. What had once been tattered relations, were now mending and growing stronger.

Jason is finally comfortable with being in the manor for more than a major emergency. Tim and Damian can be in the same room without priceless vases being broken or a knife being embedded in the walls or god forbid one of his sons. The progress has been monumental, and much of it had to do with the efforts of his oldest son.

And so per Alfred’s request the capes and masks would be put away for tonight. They would have dinner and a family movie night, they would enjoy the lifestyle of a normal average family if only for a night.

So while his employees droned on and on about profit margins Bruce was thinking about Alfred’s pot roast and homemade pumpkin pie. Or at least he was until a commotion pulls him from his thoughts.

Outside of the boardroom he can hear an argument rising in noise and volume. His secretary, Denise demanding whoever was on the other side of the door wait until the meeting is over but the deep voice demanded he speak with Bruce immediately. Is one Bruce recognizes from years of partnership with Batman and person friendship.

Jim Gordon.

Bruce stood interrupting the meeting, waving off any complaints, “we will resume this meeting on Monday.” He states simply and then is out the door.

“Jim” he greets the frazzled looking commissioner.

“Bruce” Jim turns. The look in older man’s eyes cause a brick of ice to settle in Bruce’s stomach.

“Is everything okay Jim?”

“Bruce why don’t we go into your office.” Jim’s mustache twitches in a way Bruce has learned to associate with bad news.

“I’d rather you tell me right now.”

“Bruce, I really think this is something you’d rather hear in private.” The brick of ice triples in size and Bruce feels anger swell in his chest. Had something happened to Alfred? Or one of his boys?

“Damn it Jim tell me what’s going on now!” A hint of Batman’s gravel leaks into his voice.

Jim sighs, his mustache twitched again. “Dick was shot in the line of duty about thirty minutes ago. He’s in surgery at Bludhaven Memorial. The commissioner knows we’re personal friends and asked me to notify you. I sent Bullock to the manor to notify Alfred and bring him and any of the boys to the hospital. I’m here to escort you.”

The words don't quite make sense to Bruce. Dick said he had resigned. After too many close calls in both uniforms Dick had told Bruce he was going to resign from BPD. That he couldn’t do any good if he was killed. “He resigned Jim!”

Jim refuses to meet Bruce’s eyes. Which only fuels his anger.

“He resigned Jim! Stop telling me my son was shot! He reigned!” Bruce is causing a scene but he can't find it in him to care. Jim was telling him Dick had been shot in a job that he had quit.

“They were short handed Dick said he’d stay on until the next academy class graduated at the end of the month.” Jim pauses, sighing deeply. “Bruce, arguing with me isn’t going to change what happened but it might keep you from seeing your boy one more time.”

A beat passes, and the reality slams into Bruce tenfold. Tension bleeds away to a knee weakening fright and Bruce barely manages to keep his feet underneath him.

Xxx

The ride into Bludhaven is mostly a blur, in a brief moment of clarity he calls Alfred. Worried words are exchanged with the man who is a father to him and a grandfather to his boys. The ever-stoic butler’s voice wobbles over the phone, assuring Bruce that he would get the boys together and meet Bruce at the hospital.

A hospital that is covered in flashing blue lights, police cars fill the parking lot as Jim pulled in front of the emergency room doors. A sea of blue parts for Bruce as he exits the patrol car. Officers bowing their heads in respect, some with tears in their eyes. Looks of pity and remorse are sent in his direction as he walks past hallways filled with officers. At the front desk an older female nurse greets him. She has bags under her eyes and looked beyond exhausted, she stills for the briefest of moments when eyes landed on Bruce.

“Mr Wayne, if you’d follow me” her voice is soothing and gentle. And Bruce finds it comforting as he walks behind her, following her though the maze of different corridors until they came to a stop just outside a private waiting room. “A doctor will be with you shortly.”

She leaves quickly and quietly. No fanfare or promises of it'll be okay.

Bruce struggles to pull in a stabilizing breath as he settles in to wait.

Xxx

Two hours pass before a doctor finds Bruce. The doctors greets him with a somber look on his face.  “Mr Wayne”

“How is my son?” Bruce’s voice is gruff with worry.

“Mr. Wayne we’ve done everything we can. The damage to his lungs and chest cavity is extensive. We did what we could to repair it but there’s only so much that can be done. We’ve made him comfortable and if he makes it through the next 24 hours, we can try to go back in. But Mr. Wayne I advise you to be prepared for the worse.”

“I...How. How bad is the damage.” Bruce struggles to find words, to comprehend what the doctor is telling him. He's the World’s Greatest Detective, yet his brain is failing him in this moment.

“Mr Wayne the bullet that struck your son was designed to cause as much damage as possible, it didn’t help that his vest slowed the velocity of the bullet. The slowed velocity caused more damage once it entered his body. It bounced around inside of his chest cavity. To be honest Mr Wayne I’m amazed that you son survived long enough to make it to the hospital. The fact that he survived through the surgery is a small miracle in itself. You son is an extremely strong man Mr Wayne, and if anyone could survive this it’s that young man. But I advise you to get everyone who cares for him here as soon as possible. Say what you need to say to your son Mr Wayne.” The doctor sighs, “If you’ll follow me I will take you to your boy.”

For the first time in years Bruce can feel the sting of tears in his eyes as the Doctor leads him to Dick’s room.

The room is as secluded as is possible for the ICU, an officer stands outside Dick’s door, head bowed. At the sound of approaching footsteps, the officer looks up and Bruce is surprised to see the tears streaming down her face.

“Mr. Wayne I’m Captain Amy Rohrbach I…” Bruce cut her off and surprises both himself and Amy by pulling her into a hug.

“Dick has told us so much about you Amy. Thank you for everything you’ve done for him.” Bruce releases her.

“I….Mr Wayne. I’m sorry this is my fault. Dick wanted to resign and I asked him to stay on he wouldn’t….” Amy cuts herself off, a sob threatening to escape but she refuses to allow it. “Mr Wayne I….”

“Amy. Dick...my boy he loved to help people. Even if you had not asked he would have stayed. He would have kept working until you had more officers. He would have stayed on to train an officer once you had more officers. He put in the resignation papers…. But” Bruce took a shuddering breath “I don’t think he would have actually left.”

At this Amy releases a small sob her seemingly strong frame shaking with despair, and then she breathes a deep breath and again she is a strong imposing force in front of him. He can see why Dick thought so highly of her.

“Amy would you mind. If the worst happens. Will you make sure they take care of my boy” Bruce asks around the lump in his throat.

“It would be my honor Mr Wayne.”

“Thank you” Bruce nods at Amy and entered the room, Amy resuming her post at the door.

The moment Bruce’s eyes land on Dick his heart grinds to a stop, freezing him in place. His beautiful boy is pale and still, tucked underneath the hospital sheets. Bandages peeking out from underneath, an intubation tube down his throat, wires and tubes wind out from him. It is a picture Bruce has seen a dozen times before and, yet it is so different. It's only the sound of the automatic door closing that stirs Bruce back into motion.

 Approaching Dick, his hand finds its way into Dick’s hair, brushing it off his clammy forehead, skin cool under Bruce’s touch. The hiss and puff of the ventilator fills in the spaces between the beeps and drones of the machines that are keeping Dick alive.

“Oh chum” Bruce whines around the lump in his throat. It had been a long time since this much emotion had threaten to take hold of Bruce and he is struggling to keep it all bottled up. Struggling to find his footing as the world around him seems to shift and roll as he takes everything in. “What did you get yourself into Dickie?”

Xxxx

Alfred has dealt with many crises in his time with the Wayne family. And yet he can't help the dread that fills him as he drives his three youngest charges to Bludhaven Memorial. He struggles to maintain his infamous British stoicism, as his mind wandered to the events of the previous hour.

Opening the door expecting to find Master Bruce or Master Dick only to find Harvey Bullock looking disheveled at the manor’s entrance. His quick explanation as to why he stood there, and the hushed “Grayson” that had escaped from Master Damian as he stepped out of his hiding spot atop of the grand staircase.

It had taken mere minutes to find Master Jason and Master Tim, and inform them of the news.

Alfred cannot shake the growing dread that fills him as the get closer to Bludheaven Memorial. The sea of police officers that greets them at the hospital only adds to the weight of the dread that sits in his throat.

“Pennyworth” Damian for once sounding his age “Grayson will be alright, won’t he?”

“Dickiebird is just doing it for the attention” Jason cuts in before Alfred can answer “He’ll be just fine baby bat and we can all tell him what an ass he is for causing such a mess”

“That seems fair Todd. And surely Drake can hack into his phone and change the ringtone to that Bieber song he hates as punishment as well.” Tim hums in agreement.

“Chins up young masters we are here” Alfred warns, pulling to a stop in front of the hospital

Xxxx

The familiar sound of Jason’s cursing followed by Alfred’s quick “Master Jason this is a place of healing and if your behavior continues I will see to it that you have your mouth washed out with soap. And I do not care that you are a grown man and no longer live at the manor!” and a grumbled “sorry.” alerts Bruce that the rest of the family has arrived.

Bruce is not ready to face Alfred or his boys. Dick’s vitals have only gotten worse since Bruce had sat down to watch over his son.

Bruce had already been forced to sit by and helplessly watch doctors and nurse struggle to bring Dick back when his vitals had dropped so low that it had set of the monitors. Alarms had blared in the hospital room and in the hallway outside causing doctors to come rushing in and frantically trying to stabilize Dick. They had only just been successful.

Taking a deep breath Bruce stood, trying to shake the imagine of Dick surrounded by doctors his heart barely beating. The ice cold grip that had wrapped its way around Bruce’s throat. It was all too much. “You have to hold out for them Dickie”

Amy was still standing outside the door, uniform starched and pressed, jaw clenched tight against emotions. Alfred and the boys standing just a few feet away, a young nurse speaking to them in hushed whispers. Damian’s lip trembled, alfred’s hands shook, Jason shifted from foot to foot and Tim stood stock still.

Bruce knows what the nurse is telling them, knows that with each word she spoke their fear grew, just like his. He should be the one telling them, should be explaining what was happening but he stands frozen to the ground beneath him. The great Batman paralyzed with fear.

“No you stupid imbecilic hag!” Damian’s shouts spur Bruce back into motion. He sweeps in on the conversation with all the grace of the bat. Snatching his youngest into his arms and away from the scene he had just created.

He faintly hears Alfred apologizing, but is focused more in the angry ragging child in his arms.

“Put me down father! That hag is lying! Grayson will not die! He is too much of a stubborn idiot to let a mere street thug take him down” Damian is desperate and wild in his hold.

“Damian stop” he commands his son trembles and shouts.

“NO” tears are streaming down Damian’s face “No no no no no no he can't he can't father! Tell him he can pick the movie! We can watch that stupid elephant movie! Tell him! Tell him he has to….”

“Oh Dami” Bruce holds his sobbing son tight to him “He's doing his best, he's holding on for you.”

Bruce picks up his youngest and carries him into Dick's room. He holds Damian tight as they sit with the rest the family and wait.

Xxxx

Damian lay curled up asleep in his arms, Jason sits close to Dick's side head bent as he whispers to him. Tim is standing in the far corner a lost look on his face, eyes red rimmed. He had spoken to his older brother early on but as the beeping of the heart monitor continued to slow Tim had distanced himself. At first seeking comfort from Alfred and then seeking solitude.

Bruce’s eyes landed on his father figure who sat beside him. He looked as though he had aged twenty years in the last two hours. Bruce tried to think of something to say something to help.

“I……..”

The shrill shriek that filled the room startles him at first. There is a mere moment where he cannot comprehend what is happening.

“Dad!” Jason all but sobs. And that slams it all into perspective.

“OUT NOW!” Bruce is shouting at the terrified looks on Tim and Jason's faces. Alfred grabbing a confused Damian from his arms.

Jason stumbles, sobs and is out of the room. Trailing after Alfred, as doctors flood into the space Jason had been occupying.

Tim, his sweet smart Timmy stares wide eyed as doctors start compressions on Dick. A sickening crack fills the air and Bruce want to cry. He turns his eyes to Dick for a moment and watches as blood comes from his son's mouth and nose.

“Nooooooooooo” the anguished cry that rips from Tim snaps Bruce back to the matter at hand. Tim does not need to see this, these should not be the last images he has of his brother.

Stepping in between Tim and the scene unfolding just beyond, he finds his son's face pale. Snot is running down his face mixing with tears as he struggles to breathe. Bruce grabs the lithe boy and bodily drags him from the room.

 The automatic door opening and closing behind him.

In the hall Tim is struggling in Bruce's hold, screams filling the air as his son fights being held. Tim manages to escape from Bruce. And then Amy is suddenly there grabbing hold of Tim. He fights her, tears streaming down his face, Bruce catches sight of the terrified looks on Jason and Damian’s faces. He sees Alfred, struggling to keep them calm, struggling to keep his own emotions under control.

“Tim” Bruce all but shouts grabbing ahold of Tim’s face.

Tim's wide eyes focus on Bruce for a second, a sobbing breath escaping him and just like that he stops fighting and starts bawling. Amy is letting go of Tim and Bruce is there holding his son as he sobs. Jason and Damian are soon grabbing ahold of Bruce too. Sobs filling the air.

Minutes pass. The sound of his children's cries lessened. And then a doctor is stepping out of Dick's room.

He looks at the small family. The tears in their eyes. Bruce already knows what the doctor will tell them. He's not ready.

“Mr. Wayne your son is dead.”


	2. Hearts I Leave Behind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off I'm sorry. I'm just very very sorry.
> 
> Second of all... All aboard the angst train!

_“Mr. Wayne your son is dead.”_

 

The words seem to echo in the silence, and the world grinds to a halt. Amy feels her heart shutter to a stop as her breath catches in her throat. Her world swims for a moment her ears ringing. She wonders if maybe she miss heard what the Doctor had just said. But then the shrill shriek of a child shatters that notion.

The sobs that escape the youngest Wayne, startle Amy out of the daze she’s found herself in. Her heart starts beating again and her breath escapes her throat in a shudder. Emotions threaten to overwhelm her.  

Amy can’t allow that, not yet. She takes a slow measured breath, and quickly locks all her feelings away. Her jaw clenching and face setting into a controlled mask, except for a lone tear that slides its way down her face.  

Amy knows that a nurse or doctor will be notifying the commissioner of Dick’s death. Knows that soon six officers in full dress uniform will be here to escort Dick’s body down to the morgue, where he will he placed in a coffin with a flag draped over top. Knows that until they arrive it is her duty to stand guard over their fallen officer.  

So she steps into the hospital room and watches. Watches as nurses, pull out tubes and iv’s. Watches as they wash the blood from his face and hair. Watches as they tenderly prepare Dick for his family to say goodbye. It’s all she can do. It’s all that is left to be done.

xxxxxxx

“Would you like to see him?”

The words barely register with Bruce, he is shattered on the inside. His son is dead and he’s trying to comfort his remaining sons but how is he supposed to do that when he feels as though he has been thrown into a raging sea with no hope of rescue.

Damian is falling apart in his arms begging for his brother to be okay. Screaming his blame at the doctors and nurses. Screaming his blame at his father and at Dick for leaving. And Bruce has no words to comfort the young boy.

He looks at the nurse, then back down at his youngest and then back at the nurse. It’s not making sense, his genius level IQ is failing him, and he just stares at the nurse as she asks again.

“Yes ma’am but we need a moment” Alfred answers for him.

Alfred’s tone is gentle and kind but he sounds so tired and worn. Bruce looks away from the nurse’s sympathy to find Alfred’s eyes. Alfred who has all but been his father for the majority of his life, Alfred who has been the rock that Bruce has leaned on the foundation that has held his family together.

Alfred who has aged so much in the last few hours, the last of his infamous British stoicism gone. His face is wet with tears, as he holds Tim.

“I didn’t say goodbye” Tim is whispering over and over again.  “I didn’t….I…..He……”

And then Jason is sweeping in to stand between Tim and the door.

“He knew babybird. He knew” his large frame engulfing Tim and Alfred. His mass shaking with his own tears.

xxxxx

Bruce isn’t ready when he enters the room. Isn’t prepared when his gaze lands on Dick’s body. Isn’t prepared for his mind to tell him that Dick isn’t dead that he’s just sleeping. His face peaceful in death as it once was in sleep. But of course logic wins out. Logic tells him that his son is dead. Bruce has to tear his eyes away before he breaks down.

He finds Amy standing in the corner. She greets him with a somber face and a silent nod. He can handle a conversation. He can distract himself from the pain that is tearing his heart apart.

“You know we never talked about what would happen if he was killed in the line of duty like this. I think we were all naive enough to believe it couldn’t happen.” Bruce says aloud, a desperate undertone causes his words to wobble.  

“You know, when I first met him I thought he was just some puck rich kid who wanted to piss off his dad. I didn’t think he’d last. And then I got to see him work and got to know him. He had this light to him, he seemed untouchable in a way. He had this huge heart and an amazing work ethic. He was one of the good ones. I think…. I know that the world is a lesser place now that he is gone.”

Bruce looks away from her to hid his tear.

xxxxxx

The loud banging of a fist against a door, cuts through the haze of sleep and causes a violent pounding in his head.

“Mollay answer the fucking door!” a voice violently shouts.

Gannon’s head swims when he lifts it from his pillow, a wave of nausea washes over him and threatens a re-showing of what he’s had for dinner the previous night. He mumbles at the noise to stop and tries to make it all stop. But the pounding and yelling at his apartment door doesn’t stop.   

Resigned he rises from his bed and slowly makes his way to his apartment door. The pounding is only growing louder and when he wretches the door open to tell the asshole on the other side to go the hell away, the word catch in this throat at the sight of Wilson in full Bludhaven PD uniform at his door.

“What the hell are you doing here?” He questions, Wilson is staring at him in an almost manic way.

“Wilson!” Gannon shouts when Wilson doesn’t answer him right away.

“Fuck Gannon why weren’t you answering your phone!” Wilson says as he shoves Gannon back into his apartment and the door is slamming shut again.

“What the hell….” Gannon starts but never finishes.

“Gannon! Listen Dick was shot. It’s bad man its really bad. Amy is already there, hell the whole precinct is there. We need to go man!”

He doesn't quite grasp what was just said. His ears are ringing and a wave of vertigo washes over him.

“what?” he says dumbly.

“Dick was shot! We need to go! Get your shit together Gannon and lets fucking go!”

The world lerches violently as the words sink in and Gannon barely makes it a trash can in time.

xxxxxxxx

Jason’s hold on his emotions is slipping. Alfred had stepped in and was comforting Tim and Damian. Bruce had disappeared back into Dick’s hospital room. And Jason had found himself without anything to distract from the pain that now seized his heart.  He can feel his breath start to hitch and his hands shake, he stumbles away from his crying brothers and Alfred’s guilt stricken face.

Jason stumbles his way through the hospital halls until he’s outside. Without really registering it a cigarette is slipped from his pack and into his mouth. He tries to light it but his hands are fumbling with the lighter and his eyes blur with tears against his will.

“Damn it” Jason rips the cigarette from his mouth.

“God fucking damn it!” Jason’s knees give and he’s slumping to the ground, chest heaving face buried in his hands.

“Damn it Dick!” the tears are coming faster and his breath is hitching in his chest. Jason knows he needs to gain control. He’s making a scene and he needs to stop but the tears just keep coming.

“Hey Jason you need to breath” a hand lands on Jason’s shoulder, he jolts violently grabbing the wrist of the hand on his shoulder.

“Hey easy Jason” Jason blinks away the tears and is greeted by Gannon’s pale face. His clothes are disheveled and it takes a moment for Jason to realize he’s not in uniform.

“Jason” Gannon isn’t meeting Jason’s eye “is….”

“Where were you” the question comes out harsh.

“Home...I called out sick” Gannon says weakly. “I didn’t know Jason! God I didn’t know this would happen. Dick..he…” Something dark twists in Jason’s stomach.

“THIS IS YOUR FAULT!” Jason roars shoving Gannon away. “DICK IS DEAD AND IT’S YOUR FUCKING FAULT!!!!”  a sob cuts Jason off.

“Jason” Gannon tries, stepping towards Jason slowly as if he were a scared animal.

“You should have been there. You were his partner! you were supposed to have his back. Dick needed you and you weren’t there.” Jason hates the way his voice cracks at the end and tears well in his eyes

“Jason I’m so sorry” Gannon’s face falls and his whole body slumps in defeat.  “God I’m so sorry”

“Sorry won’t bring my brother back.” Jason mutters and shoves his way past Gannon.

xxxxxx

Damian hates the officer that approaches his family. Hates how the man reminds him of Gordon. His face tired and grim, like he’s had to do this too many times before. Damian watches as not-Gordon greets Father with quiet condolences before looking over the rest of them. Sees the hesitation in his form as if he doesn’t know what to do next. _Pathetic._

“We have a car waiting for you. Officer Grayson’s directive stated he be brought to Saint Mary’s in Gotham. Is that where you wish he be brought Mr. Wayne.”

“Yes” is his Father’s answer.

“Alright Mr. Wayne. If you and your family will follow me.” Damian hates this not-Gordon more than anyone else in the world.

Father nods, and they begin the long trek through the hospital. Officers stand along the walls of their entire walk all with bowed heads. Damian wants to sneers at the absurdity of it, they didn’t know his brother.

He wants to tell them how pathetic they all are. That it’s their fault his brother is dead, if they all weren’t so incompetent his brother would be alive and they would be at home enjoying Alfred’s cooking. He also wants to scream and yell and curse the gods for taking his brother away, but that would have made Richard frown and he will not taint his brother’s memory by causing a scene.

So he holds it in. He shoves it all down and clamps his jaw shut and walks. Walks until they exited the hospital, where he is almost blinded by the hundreds of blue lights that flash outside.

Bludhaven, Gotham, County and State police cars filled the hospital parking lot. And in front of them is a sleek blacked out SUV its blue lights seem to shine the brightest. A marked Bludhaven police car sits in front of it, an all black hearse sit behind it. Damian feels sick.

He hears Bruce whisper to Tim and Jason, their bodies still shaking with sobs. None of this could be real. He gazes out at the lines and lines of police cars. The hundreds of officers. This all has to be a horrible horrible dream.

 _Don’t be foolish_  the vicious voice in his head sneers at him, it sounds like his mother.

“Damian. It’s time.” Father’s voice is rough with emotion.

Damian looks at his Father, then to Jason and Tim. Sees Alfred bow his head. Damian looks back to his Father, sees the tear that stream down his cheek. He follows his Father’s line of sight. Damian sees the flag draped casket and breaks.

xxxx

Amy watches as the honor guard lifts Dick’s casket and start their slow march down the hospital halls. Officers stand at attention all along the hallways, they salute as the small procession passes. Many with tears in their eyes.

It’s a surreal feeling, other officers have died while she has been with the department but none had been close to her. None had shook her to her core like this. Nothing had ever hurt as much as watching as they carry her rookie away to the waiting hearse.

Nothing tore her heart apart like watching as Damian runs from his family. Watching as he stumbled towards his brothers casket.

Hearing his shouts and cries as Bruce snatches him up, pulls the boy to his chest and holds him close. “Tell Grayson to wake up! Tell him he can’t leave! He can’t!”

Amy watches as veteran officers lose control of their emotions. They had all seen so much death but there is always something raw about watch a child suffer with loss. And it’s heart wrenching to watch the Wayne's climb into that SUV, the youngest sobbing for his brother to just come back.

Amy watches as the honor guard begins to place Dick’s coffin into the hearse.

“Present Arms!” Is called out to the crowd.

Amy raises her right arm in a slow deliberate salute along with the dozens of other officers present. She holds that salute as tears stream down her face. The honor guard is slow and deliberate in placing Dick’s casket into the hearse. Only after the door was closed did they all lower their salute.

She marches away with the honor guard and then climbs into her patrol car parked directly behind the hearse. A siren cries and the sound of motorcycles roaring fills the air. It is time.

And so begins the long procession to Gotham.

xxxxxx

Bruce had finally managed to get his children to rest. They had been reluctant to sleep, perhaps fearing nightmare or perhaps fearing dreams where their brother is still alive. But at last they are all in bed. And Bruce is left to reflect on the past twelve hours.

Dick has been taken to St. Mary’s and the family brought back to Wayne manor. Dick’s funeral will be in a few days. There is so much that needs to be done, people to notify. Plans to be made. And yet Bruce is stuck in his chair, mind drifting to the sight of his son dead in a hospital bed. Replaying his last moments of life as blood streaming from his mouth and nose. Bruce should have prevented this, should have…..

“Master Bruce” Alfred calls out to him, and Bruce is snapped away from his thoughts.

“This can’t be real Alfred.” God he must sound like a broken record at this point. But none of it seemed real! They were supposed to have a movie night! They were supposed to be safe and happy and normal for a night! This wasn’t fair!

“Why do I keep losing those I love? Why do my children keep losing the people they love? Have we not given enough of ourselves? Have we not done enough good to deserve some happiness?” He all but yelled at the old butler.

Alfred seemed to take his time to find his answer, emotions waring in his eyes. Bruce was sure his eyes reflected the same war. That his eyes looked just as haunted as the old butler’s.

“Do you remember what your father told you so many years ago Master Bruce?”

“Of course I do Alfred.”

“We fall so that we can pick ourselves up again” they said in unison.

“And those are the words of a wise man. But they seem to fall short in times like this don’t they. When we seem to have lost so much that we can never go on. But have you ever thought of all the good tragedy has brought us?”

“What good has tragedy ever brought me!” Alfred did not bristle at Bruce’s harsh tone.

“Would you have ever had Master Dick in your life had his parents not fallen? Would you have found Master Jason had you not taken Robin from Master Dick and he left? Had you have save young Master Timothy from a life of solitude and loneliness had Master Jason not so cruely been taken from us?  Had he not been returned to us although angry at the time but still a miracle nonetheless. We would not have Master Damian had you not had a romance with that horrible woman? So yes Master Bruce tragedy has brought you happiness. And while you might not see it now you will pick yourself up and be strong for your boys. You will honor Master Dick’s memory and not let this family fall apart. You may grieve and I pray you do. But do not shut yourself off from your children and do not left them suffer anymore than they already are.”

xxxxxxxxx

_“Come on Little wing, you gotta promise!” Dick is doing a handstand on his favorite gargoyle’s head._

_“I’m not promising you anything Dickhead, plus this is a stupid conversation to begin with. We all know you’re gonna live to some old ripe age with a bunch of grandbabies your gonna tell whimsical stories too.” Jason says it light heartedly if not a little gruff sounding._

_“Jay, you of all people know that we could die at any time.” Dick pleads_

_“Shut the fuck up!” Jason knows he’s being a bit harsh but Dick is aiming at a low spot._

_“Jay I don’t…...Look you’re the second oldest you know big brother duty falls on you if something happens. I’m not asking you to be me. Just…..Just be you and be there. That’s all.”_

_“Fine Dickhead if it gets you off my back. Fine I’ll play good little black sheep and stay with the herd if something happens. Happy!” He snaps at his brother who’s wearing that stupid fucking grin._

_“Yeah Jaybird! Now lets kick some drug dealer ass” Dick laughs as he vaults of the gargoyle’s head and into a free fall._

Jason jerks awake. He’s in his old bed at the manor, sheets tangled around his legs and a cold sweat covering his body. He tries to take in a calming breath but it ends up a sob. He can’t do this. He’s not Dick he can’t…..

“Aaaargh!” The scream comes from across the hall, followed by a loud painful sob and the sound of something breaking.

Jason is out of his bed and across the hall before he realizes it. Tim is standing in the middle of his destroyed room, blood dripping from his hand and glass shards on the ground.

“Timmy…”Jason barely dodges the tablet aimed at his head. Tim glances around for a second projectile but Jason doesn’t give him the time. He rushes the barely nineteen year old has him wrapped in a crushing hug.

“Nooooooo let me go! Let me go! You fucking piece of shit let me go! Let me go!” Tim is thrashing violently and despite his meger size compared to Jason. Jason is still struggling!

“It should have been you!” Tim finally screams and Jason releases him staggering back as if Tim had struck him.

Tim looks at Jason with wide eyes, as if he’s just realizing what he said. “I… I….” Tim dissolves into tears, and Jason he doesn’t know what to do. So he just acts.

“Oh babybird” he calls quietly, approaching Tim slowly and then scooping him up into his arms. “It’s okay I know you didn’t mean it.” He whispers rocking back and forth. Jason isn’t sure how long they stay like that but by the end both of them have cried all the tears they have.

xxxxxxxx

Jason is sitting on the roof smoking when he hears the quiet sniffles. _So this is where he ran off to._ Jason takes one last drag from his cigarette, watches the way the smoke floats away.

“You know Dickiebird caught me smoking up here after my first fight with Bruce. Goldie bummed a smoke off me and told me Bruce was an idiot.”

He hears Damian “tt” around a sob.

“I miss him” Jason admits. He hears the shuffle of shingles

“I promised him I’d give a try at the big brother thing if something ever happened. But I don’t know how to do that. I’m not….” Jason’s throat tightens “I don’t really know what I’m doing baby bat and I know I’m not Dickiebird but I’m here. And I know what it’s like to want your big brother back.”

Jason doesn’t say anything when he feels Damian’s weight leaning into his left side.

xxxxxxxx

Alfred had seen so much trauma and death in his long life.

He had watched men barely out of boyhood die on the battlefield, helpless as friends cried for their mother’s or God with their last breath. It's often said war is hell but he knew it was so much worse. Only the guilty went to hell. But war did not discriminate guilt and innocence. It took without prejudice.

He had known what it was like to have blood on his hands. Known the feeling of holding a man's life in his hands. Known the weight of bearing a casket oh his shoulder. He had known all of that before he came to the Wayne family.

He had left the army with the hope he had seen the end of suffering. He had hoped that he would get to see the good in the world. That he had believed with the birth of Young Master Bruce that he was finally allowed to see the beauty that the world had to offer. And while he so often been gifted with the light the world had to offer. In the laughter that would fill the halls of the manor, first Bruce's and then Dick's and his other precious grandchildren. He had been gifted with so many beautiful moments but in the end he had also grown more intimate with death and destruction.

He had seen the world at its worst and best, he had seen so much over his many years on this earth. He would be forever grateful for the life he had been gifted with. He only wished he could stop burying those he loved.

xxxxxxx

Wally stands before Wayne Manor hair wind swept, eyes rim red, and clothes a mess. A worn envelope in hand.  Hesitating at the massive oak doors just a moment. Just long enough for them to open of their own accord.

“Mister West” Alfred’s stoic voice colored with grief greets Wally.

“Alfie” Wally had Alfred wrapped in his arms before the butler could blink “I…” a small sob escaped the speedster.

“No words are needed my dear boy I know” Alfred responded hold strong despite his years.

“That’s….” Wally pulled away eyes glistening with tear. “I need to speak with Bruce. It’s Dick, I… he made me promise.” Alfred nodded in his all knowing way.

“Master Bruce is in his study making preparations. If your willing to indulge an old man I ask that once your done speaking with Master Bruce you share a cup of tea with me before you leave.” Wally could only nod. “And Wally, thank you” Wally speeds to Bruce’s office before Alfred can see the tears.

Wally once again hesitates, this time at the door of Bruce’s study. Before he gets a chance to work up his courage to knock the door is opening.

“Wally” Bruce looks more disheveled than Wally can ever remember seeing him in all the years he has known Bruce. Bruce who stood before him with red rimmed eyes and three day old stubble. Bruce who had just lost a son. Bruce who had been his best friend’s father.

“Dick loved you” Wally blurted out. _Smooth West._

“Dick loved you and he wanted me to give you this” Wally hands Bruce the envelope and leaves.

xxxxxxxx

Bruce wanders the halls of Wayne manor envelope in hand until he finds himself standing in front of Dick’s bedroom door. The door has remained closed, the room untouched by anyone since before this nightmare started. He doesn’t think as he turns the handle and walks in, door closing behind him.

The smell of Dick’s favorite cologne still clings to the air. A worn and dog-eared copy of Robin Hood rests on the nightstand.  Beside it lay Eleanor, her fabric faded and pilled. The Flying Graysons poster still proudly displayed above the bed. The desk in the corner is still a mess, papers and pictures adore every inch of its surface.

Bruce breathes it all in, looks down at the envelope in his hand. Looks at his name written in Dick’s familiar scrawl, turns the envelope over and opens it.  

_Bruce I'm sorry._

_If you're reading this, well looks like I met my maker. I made Wally promise if something happened on to me he'd give this to you. Maybe it'll make it a little easier._

_Bruce I'm sorry you'll have to bury another son. It's not fair. But you and I both know life isn't fair. It wasn't fair when your parents died or my parents died. It wasn't fair when it took Jason from us or Tim's parents from him. It wasn't fair we missed the first 10 years of Damian’s life or that Jason came back all alone._

_But we were also lucky enough to get them back. Lucky enough to be a family. Lucky enough to be able to do so much good. And we have done so much good Bruce. For all the sacrifices I have made, that you have made, that my brothers have made we have done so much good. We’ve saved the world and Gotham. Even if I had only saved on life it would have all been worth it. But most of all Bruce you have saved me. Just as you have saved Jason, Tim and Damian. Just as Alfred has saved us all. And we have saved you._

_You gave me hope again. You gave me a family again. You gave me brothers. You gave me laughter. As Stitch said, “This is my Family. A I found it all on my own. It’s little and broken but still good.” I remember watching Lilo and Stitch  with you Bruce right after you took me in. I think it was probably Alfred’s idea. I cried, you totally cried (don’t worry I won’t tell anyone). That was one of the first moments I knew things were gonna be okay. You did so much for me Bruce.  You helped me grow into a good man. You helped me overcome the loss of my parents._

_I know I didn't say it often but you were my dad just as much as John Grayson was. I will forever be thankful that you took me in and introduced me to this life. I will never regret giving my life to the service of other. Know that I am happy in death. I will only regret not being able to with my family longer, and the pain that this will cause you Alfred and my brothers. That in death I leave behind my family and friends, is my only regret.  Don't mourn my death Bruce. Celebrate my life. Live, be there for Alfred. Don't push Jason, Tim and Damian away. Remind them that you love them. And tell them one last time how much I loved being their big brother. Tell Alfie thank you for me._

_I love you Dad,_

_Your son._

Bruce’s hands shake as he finishes the later. The first sob that rips from his chest is small, the second stronger and more encompassing, and then the sobs are coming from his soul. Full body wrails that bring him too his knees. Tears stream down his face mixing with the carpet as he doubles over, the letter hugged tightly to his chest.

He doesn’t try to stop. Doesn’t try to hide the pain he feels. He cries long after he has run out of tears and his voice has grown hoarse.

xxxxxx

“Bruce!” Jason’s cry cut through the silence in the manor, echoing through the halls to Bruce’s office.

Bruce is on his feet in a second racing to the den where he finds Jason frozen in front of the tv, a Gotham news channel plays the words _Breaking News_ across the screen.

“I’m Vicki Val live at a home on 37th street where the Gotham City Police are in a standoff with Dennis Kane, the suspect in the death of Bludhaven Police Officer Richard Grayson. The adopted son of Gotham’s Bruce Wayne. Richard Grayson succumbed to wounds he received in the line of duty earlier this week.”Bruce’s blood freezes.

“Police had been in a chase with Dennis…..” Suddenly the screen blurs and the room erupts with the sound of gunfire. Screams can be heard as the camera shifts and tilts.

“Nooooo” he hears Jason whine, “no no no”

The screen blacks out and then is replaced with a newscaster sitting in the newsroom.

“Folks were are unsure of what has just happened but it appears gunfire has been exchanged between the gunman and Gotham Police. We ask that you wait as we try to gather more information.”

Bruce watches the man shuffle his papers and a picture of Dick in his Bludhaven uniform is put on screen. Bruce doesn’t hear what the newscaster is saying, until the scene switches back to Vicki.

“I repeat Dennis Kane, the suspect in the killing of Richard Grayson has just been killed after shooting at police.”

The television sparks and smokes, only then does Bruce realize he’s put his fist through the screen.

xxxxxx

Saint Mary’s Cathedral is bathed in shades of flashing blue, her Gothic architecture illuminated in the lights of dozens of police cars. The sky is dark and ominous, large clouds hang over head promising rain.

The cry of bagpipes can be heard echoing from within the cathedral. Officers stand tall and rigid along the path leading to the cathedral. Their uniforms perfectly starched, their badges shrouded with black mourning bands.

As the bagpipes reach their crescendo and the storm above roars. A flag draped casket is hoisted onto the shoulders of six officers, and they begin their slow march.

Just as they reach the steps to the cathedral, the rain begins to fall in heavy fat drops. It seems even the heavens are crying today.

xxxxxx

Jason struggles to hold his composer as he steps up to the podium, a sea of people before him. Officers in starched uniforms, firm jaws and red rimmed eyes. Heroes in their in their everyday guises, struggling to hold it all together. There are others that he could care less about, there because a Wayne is involved. They want be able to tell people how they went to the funeral of Brucie Wayne’s circus brat. They are not the ones he is here to speak to. Jason’s words are meant for Dick's fellow officers, the heroes that he had fought beside during earth's darkest moments. They are for his friends who would never again hear Dick's laugh, and his family who would never again be pulled into Dick's arms. His eyes land on his younger brothers, Damian and Tim both wear brave masks. Though they fool no one, with their puffy red rim eyes. Jason knows he looks little better, but he will do his brother this honor. He will let the world know what it had lost. And he will make sure his baby brothers know that it's going to be okay.

Jason clears his throat, fights the tears that threaten to spill and speaks.

“I’ve struggled to find the right words to say” Jason begins, eyes roaming the huge crowd “to be honest what can be said. My brothers and I lost our big brother, a man we idolized. I still don't think its real, I expect Dick to walk through those doors and steal the show with a laugh and a smile. He loved making people smile, loved to make his brothers laugh.

Dick wasn't perfect. He messed up, he made mistakes, boy he had a temper at times. I still laugh at some of the things Dick said to Bruce during his hot headed teenage years. Yet he loved with his whole heart. Hell he wore it on his sleeve he'd give you the shirt off his back if he thought you needed it. And he loved being a big brother.

One of the first things Dick said to me was ‘don't worry Bruce may be an emotionally constipated asshole but he's a good dad.” Here I am freshly adopted standing in Wayne Manor for the first time and here comes Dick sliding down the grand banister wide smile and crazy hair. He flipped off the banister landed in front of me this big goofy smile. That was Dick. He was amazing. We didn't always see eye to eye and we had our rough patches but he was always there. Always ready to give you a smile and his heart.

And so today and everyday I will do my best to honor my big brother's memory. Dick I love you, you over-sized human octopus.

Jason pauses for a moment, choking back a sob as his throat constricts and his eyes water.

“When I come to the end of my journey  
And I travel my last weary mile   
Just forget if you can, that I ever frowned   
And remember only the smile   
  
Forget unkind words I have spoken   
Remember some good I have done   
Forget that I ever had heartache   
And remember I've had loads of fun   
  
Forget that I've stumbled and blundered   
And sometimes fell by the way   
Remember I have fought some hard battles   
And won, ere the close of the day   
  
Then forget to grieve for my going   
I would not have you sad for a day   
But in summer just gather some flowers   
And remember the place where I lay   
  
And come in the shade of evening   
When the sun paints the sky in the west   
Stand for a few moments beside me   
And remember only my best”

“My brother dedicated his life to helping others. That was when he was happiest. When he was make a difference or putting a smile on someone's face. And for that reason I ask that we do not mourn his loss but celebrate his life.”

Jason closes his eyes as the last word leaves his mouth, he can almost see Dick standing beside him, his face split by a big goofy smile “You did great little-wing”.

Jason doesn’t try holding back the tears that fall as he walks away.

xxxxxxxx

The lights in the church begin to dim and a singular blue light illuminates a photo of Dick clad in his uniform a bright smile on his face. The silence that had echoed Jason Todd’s final words to his brother, now lingers as all attention is focused on Dick’s photo.

Amy recognizes the familiar crackle of a radio being turned on and her heart drops into her stomach. She knows what is about to happen and she’s not ready, beside her she hears Gannon’s as he chokes back a sob.

The squawk of the radio echoes through the silence like a gunshot.

“All units hold traffic. All units hold traffic.” a dispatcher calls, her voice is intimately familiar to Amy, Becca, Amy’s mind supplies. One of the few decent dispatchers in the city. A voice that has not been on the radio since that night but is intimately familiar to Gannon and the way it once was to Dick. A voice that now haunts Amy’s dream, the last voice Dick ever heard on the radio.

“8-23, Central.” Becca calls out, she is answered with silence.

“8-2-3, Central” Becca calls again, Amy hears the emotion in her voice, hears the tears that must be silently streaming down Becca’s face.

“Officer Grayson, Central” This time Amy feels her own tears start to fall, beside her Gannon collapses on the pew, face covered, shoulders shaking with sobs.

“Officer Richard John Grayson, Central” Echoing silence and hush cries are the only answer.

“This is the final call for Officer Richard John Grayson, badge number 8-2-3, his end of watch was March 25th. He served his city proudly and with honor. He will be deeply missed. Rest easy officer Grayson, your brothers and sisters in blue have that watch.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you hate me yet? For those of you who thought the epilogue my make it hurt worse.... I'm sorry. Loss is painful and grief hurts. I wrote this with that in mind. I hope you enjoyed this story. 
> 
> If you'd like to add a little extra angst listen to the somg Hearts I Leave Behind by Pete Scobell Band.
> 
> Also I apologize for any mistakes or errors I tried to catch them all but I always seem to miss something.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading. 
> 
> Shipz.

**Author's Note:**

> Sooooooo I'm sorry! This has been floating around in my head for a while and well Christmas finally gave me the time to finish it. I apologize for the feels I may have given you. Also E I hope this gives you just a taste of the anguish you make me feel. And sorry but no fluff here. And if you'd like to add on to the angst the song Time by Hans Zimmer helped to inspire my anguish.
> 
> Lastly I apologize for any mistakes I tried to catch them all but not sure if I did. 
> 
> Thanks  
> Shipz


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